


a prayer for which no words exist

by 653d21



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Genderfluid Character, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kid Fic, Mild Transphobia, Pre-Stream (Critical Role), Syldor Vessar's A+ Parenting, Trans Character, no betas we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:54:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27457555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/653d21/pseuds/653d21
Summary: "Vex’ahlia and Vax’ildan can’t remember a time when they were static; they’ve always been in-between. Not quite elf or human, not quite one person or two, not quite male or female. "A character study of a genderfluid Vex and Vax and how that might change the story.
Relationships: Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, Vax'ildan & Vex'ahlia (Critical Role)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 64





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came to me and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since. 
> 
> I love the characterisation of both Vex and Vax and wanted to explore how them being trans would change their experiences and how the events of Critical Role would go. 
> 
> I'm trans myself, so I have drawn somewhat from my own life but obviously not every trans person has the same experiences so what I've written might be different from what you've experienced yourself. 
> 
> This chapter contains a moment of unintentional misgendering but otherwise doesn't have anything else to watch out for.

Vex’ahlia and Vax’ildan can’t remember a time when they were static; they’ve always been in-between. Not quite elf or human, not quite one person or two, not quite male or female. When you haven’t experienced anything else it seems ordinary, and they don’t know any different. They can’t remember anything other than the freedom of being themselves, being understood by each other and their mother. 

Their mother, on the other hand, could recall clearly the first time she noticed her children were even more different than she first realised. They were small, barely more than toddlers at the time, occupying the same space in her life almost interchangeably ‒ both figuratively and, on occasion, literally. 

“Alright my darlings, time to get up”, said their mother, perching on the end of their bed. The twins had shared a bed when they were infants ‒ it was the only way to keep them from crying ‒ and at four were still happy to do so, small frames curling together instinctively. 

When they decided to keep sharing, Elaina had breathed a sigh of relief; they could probably afford another bed but she would have to tighten their purse strings for a while. As it was, her children were happy with the way things were, which in turn made Elaina happy too. 

One of the twins rolled over, blinking sleepily at her, while the other burrowed further into the blankets. Their mother smiled, brushing dark wisps out of Vex’s eyes as her child stretched and yawned. 

“Come on Vex’ahlia,” she said, “let’s get you dressed, darling.” She stood and walked to the small chest of drawers in the corner of the room. 

The nose of the half-elf wrinkled in distaste. 

“‘M not Vex, Mamma. I’m Vax.” He spoke, sitting up and tugging the blankets further off his twin who grumbled sleepily in response. 

Elaina paused in grabbing two undershirts from the drawer;  _ wasn’t it Vex’ahlia wearing the red sleep shirt to bed last night _ ? Shaking her head she dismissed the thought, perhaps she was overly tired from working too-long hours. She turned back to him holding their clothes. 

“I’m sorry Vax’ildan, how silly of me. Would you like brown or green today?” She offered, holding a different coloured tunic in each hand. Keen eyes assessed each option, ears twitching in thought. 

“Brown,” he said firmly, nodding before twisting and poking his twin in the shoulder. “C’mon, lazy, we’re goin’ to the market today, ‘member?” 

He slid out of bed, tugging his red sleep shirt off as Elaina handed him his leggings. Vex’ahlia sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes. 

“G’mornin’ Mamma,” she mumbled, pulling her blue sleep shirt off and reaching out to their mother for an undershirt. 

“Good morning, Vex’ahlia,” Elaina smiled, helping her into the shirt and turning to help Vax’ildan whose tunic was caught on his ears. 

From what Elaina knew of elves their ears didn’t grow but stayed the same size throughout their lives, their young growing into them as they aged. Although the twins were half-elves they appeared to share this aspect with full-blooded elves and had almost comically long ears for their small size. Of course, this made them targets among others in the town who were cruel towards any differences they saw. 

After helping the twins to dress and watching them make their bed with a watchful eye, Elaina headed down the rickety stairs of their cottage to make breakfast. As she trod carefully on the squeaky top step, she heard a quiet exchange from the twins’ room, 

“She guessed it right today, d’you think she’s magic maybe?” 

“Nah uh, she got it wrong for me. ‘Sides, if she was magic, she’d get it right all the time.” 

Any brief confusion Elaina had over the exchange was quickly brushed aside as she spotted the kettle whistling and bubbling over on the hearth and rushed to rescue it. The exchange was forgotten ‒ as many childrens’ juvenile conversations are ‒ and Elaina was so preoccupied raising twins single-handedly while working in order to provide for the family, that it was not until a year later that the catalyst came about to prompt her remembering. 

This particular morning Elaina had been woken by a very apologetic neighbour who explained that she couldn’t watch the twins today while Elaina was at work due to family illness. 

Elaina woke and dressed the twins rather hurriedly, explaining that they would be coming to work with her today and had to be on their best behaviour. She braided their hair while they ate their oatmeal, making faces at each other across the table as they did. 

Their mother dressed them in warm cloaks, and the family walked through muddy streets to the shop where Elaina worked as a seamstress. The town was barely rousing, shopkeepers unlocking their stores, and the twins waved enthusiastically at everyone they passed. 

At the shop, Elaina apologetically explained to Mrs. Mandin, the senior seamstress at the shop, and the twins were allowed to stay on the condition that they wouldn’t disturb customers. Elaina settled the twins in a corner of the backroom and began her work on mending an ornate shirt belonging to a local merchant. 

After a while, the twins’ natural curiosity resulted in one of them standing at Elaina’s elbow while she worked, and the other investigating the enormous reams of cloth in a storage cupboard along one side of the room. 

“What’s that do, Mamma?” came the question from her elbow, along with a little hand pointing at the shirt. 

“Those are ruffles, Vex’ahlia, darling,” she explained, “They’re for decoration.” 

Vex’ahlia peered closely at the fabric and nodded. “They look funny,” she declared, and turned to her twin, “Hey, Vex, come an’ see this shirt,” she called. 

Elaina was used to others calling the twins by the wrong name, even herself on occasion, but calling the other by their own name had never happened before. She did a double-take, checking that this was indeed Vex’ahlia, and stared in puzzlement at her child before her. 

Vax’ildan, however, appeared unperturbed and came from exploring the room to look at where his sister was pointing. 

“Yeah, looks fancy, Vex,” he nodded, “Come see what I found over here.” 

Vex took her brother’s hand and happily followed him to where mounds of fabric were heaped in the corner of the room. They were well behaved, if a little loud, and didn’t disturb Elaina or the other seamstresses for the rest of the morning. 

On the contrary, the other seamstresses seemed charmed by the inquisitive twins exploring their workplace. Even Mrs. Mandin was patient and answered their questions about her work, enjoying the change to routine Vax and Vex brought to the shop. 

The twins were happy to fetch cloth and buttons for their mother, and seemed to be having a good day until mid-morning when Elaina complimented Vax’ildan for carrying a pile of cloth for her. 

“Well done, my darling, you’re certainly a strong young lad,” Elaina praised, taking the fabric from his small arms. 

A frown found its way across his thin face and he shook his head, “I’m not, Mamma, I’m Vex.” 

Elaina smiled at her son, “My silly boy, I know Vex is over there.” She gestured to where Vex’ahlia was counting out buttons under the table. 

He simply shook his head harder, insisting louder, “I’m Vex, Mamma.” 

“But how can you be, my darling?”

There were frustrated tears gathering at the corners of Vax’ildan’s eyes. His small hands clenched into fists and his ears flattened against the side of his head. 

Vex’ahlia looked up from the floor, attention caught by the sound of her upset twin. She looked between her mother and her twin, abandoning her counting to come over. 

“It’s okay,” she said quietly to her twin, taking his hand, “I know you’re Vex, it’s okay.” 

Tearing her attention away from her children, Elaina looked up to see the other seamstresses who were watching in concern, and Mrs. Mandin who was making her way over to the family. 

“I’m sorry Mrs. Mandin, I don’t know‒I’m sorry for‒,” Elaina began, worried for her job. Mrs. Mandin cut her off with a hand gesture. 

“I think it may be best if you took an early lunch break in order to sort out this issue. I would prefer my other seamstresses not be distracted any further,” the woman said, firmly but not unkindly. 

Elaina nodded gratefully at Mrs. Mandin, grabbed their cloaks from her chair and ushered her children through the door. 

Outside, the wind whistled down the street and Elaina fastened the cloaks onto the twins, still clutching each other’s hands, before donning her own. She stood for a moment, watching her children ‒ hands clasped tightly, Vex’ahlia with her cheek pressed to her brother’s, Vax’ildan his eyes shut tightly ‒ oblivious to anything but each other. 

“Come on, my darlings,” Elaina spoke softly, resting her hand on Vex’ahlia’s shoulder and guiding them down the street towards the town common. The twins spent many hours playing on the common, enjoying the empty stretch of grass as only children can. 

They walked in silence, the twins shoulder-to-shoulder, until Elaina guided them to a low stone wall and sat them down on it. They sat on the rough stone, pressed together from shoulder to knee, and looked up at their mother with worried eyes. 

Elaina crouched in front of her children, looking between them before turning to Vax’ildan. 

“Can you tell me what happened, my darling? I don’t understand why you got so upset.” 

Vax’ildan shifted minutely closer to Vex’ahlia and addressed the ground as he spoke. “I’m Vex today,” he stated, “and you kept calling me a boy, but I’m not, I’m Vex.” 

Elaina’s confusement must have shown on her face as she digested what her child said because Vex’ahlia spoke up too. 

“She’s Vex today, like me. She’s not Vax,” Vex’ahlia said, faced towards her twin, but watching their mother out the corner of her eye. 

Elaina was baffled, but mostly worried about her child who was clearly distressed at the moment.  _ She _ , her brain caught notice of,  _ Vex’ahlia called Vax’ildan she _ . 

Elaina wondered if Vax was perhaps playing a game where he was a girl, although he was genuinely upset at the situation, she noted. Then did that mean it wasn’t a game?

Elaina’s memory dredged up recollection of the blacksmith’s daughter, of a small boy and a happy teenage girl who were the same person. Could Vax’ildan be like her, perhaps? She wracked her brain for any previous signs that Vax was uncomfortable being a boy and came up empty. Either way, her child was clearly upset by her words, for which she felt guilt build deep in her stomach. 

“Okay, my darling,” said Elaina, ”I’m sorry for upsetting you.” 

Vax’ildan shrugged, jolting Vex’ahlia’s shoulder as he did, still looking at the ground. 

_ Perhaps they could stop by the forge to speak to the blacksmith on their way home to see if he could help _ , thought Elaina. Kneeling on the dirt, Elaina leant forwards and wrapped her arms around both of her children. She pressed kisses to each crown of dark hair, resting her cheek on the top of their heads. 

“I love you, my darlings,” she said, pulling back to look them in the face. 

Vax’ildan still looked subdued, ears drooping and tear tracks on his face. Elaina used the corner of her shirt to clean his face, and pressed a kiss to his forehead, smoothing his hair back. 

She reached out to Vex’ahlia with her other hand, cupping the side of her face, and kissed her forehead too. Vex’ahlia looked less obviously upset, but was still gripping her twin’s hand tightly and watching her mother with worried eyes. 

“Shall we eat then, my darlings?” Elaina asked, fishing a cloth wrapped package from the inside of her cloak. 

The twins nodded, reaching for bread as she unwrapped the package and passed out the food. While they ate, her twins seemed to recover a little, still pressed against each other but kicking their legs and looking around the common. 

After they finished eating, the twins climbed up the wall they had been perched on, jumping off to land on the grass with grins. They played for a while, jumping further and higher, until Elaina herded them back to the tailor’s shop. 

As she worked through the afternoon, Elaina cemented her plans to stop by the forge on the way home to speak with Rin, the blacksmith, about his daughter. 

The twins stayed close to each other during the afternoon, and were noticeably quieter than in the morning. Elaina explained to the other seamstresses that Vax’ildan had simply gotten upset and was feeling better now, which they accepted without comment. 

After finishing her work for the day, Elaina fastened cloaks onto her children before taking their hands in hers as they set off from the shop. 

“We’re going to the forge before we head home, my darlings. I need to ask Rin about something, okay?” Elaina explained, leading them down the dirt streets. 

“Yeah! Can we see Tubby?”, cheered Vex’ahlia from her right, referencing the dog Rin kept. 

“I’m sure if you ask nicely, you can,” said Elaina, smiling at her excited children. 

As they turned the corner onto the square which housed the forge, the twins began to bounce as they spotted a large boarhound sleeping in the doorway to the forge itself. It roused as they neared, lifting its head from large paws as both children broke free from their mother and descended upon him. 

Elaina peered her head around the doorway, calling out, “Hello?”

A figure with their back to the door pulled something from the fire with large metal tongs, turning at the interruption. 

A young woman with dark, soot-stained skin and long hair pulled up into a loose ponytail plunged the red-hot metal into a trough of water by her side. As the water hissed, she emerged from the steam towards Elaina, pulling thick leather gloves off and setting them aside on a workbench as she walked forwards. She pushed bulky goggles of glass and leather up to rest on her forehead, leaving a faint outline around her eyes. 

“Can I help you?”, she spoke, looking at Elaina with curiosity. 

Observing the young woman in front of her, Elaina realised that this was Rin’s daughter; they shared the same strong build and smooth complexion. She looked content, Elaina thought, with piercing dark eyes, the same curly hair as her father, and well-defined arms from working as a blacksmith. A far cry from the quiet, withdrawn child she had been. 

Elaina started, realising she hadn’t responded to the girl. 

“I‒I’m sorry,” she began, ”I was looking for your father? But...I think maybe I should speak to you instead?” 

The young woman’s head tilted slightly as she noted Elaina’s hesitance and her hips shifted to lean against the workbench at her side. 

“He’s out back shifting coal. I could go get him if you want?”, she offered, “What’s it about?” 

“Uh...well I know you‒I mean you used to...um, not be a girl?”, Elaina stuttered, struggling to explain that her child might be like this young woman in front of her. 

The young woman in question tensed, crossing her arms tightly in front of herself. Her eyes narrowed and her welcoming expression became cautious. 

“And”, she said guardedly. 

“Oh, no I didn’t mean‒”, Elaina’s hands twisted anxiously as she saw uncertainty in the face of the girl in front of her. “I think‒I think maybe my son might be like you?” Elaina said hesitantly, realising that maybe son wasn’t the right word. She gestured past herself to where the twins were lavishing attention on the huge dog outside the doorway to the forge. 

The young woman’s eyes followed Elaina’s hand to the twins and her brow unfurrowed. She watched the children for a moment before her shoulders relaxed. She seemed to mull over Elaina’s words for a while, chewing at her lower lip. 

“I’ll go get my dad for you”, she said, “and would‒do you want me to speak to them maybe?”

Elaina gratefully agreed, thanking her as she left through a door in the back corner of the forge before reappearing a minute later. 

When Rin came in, trailing behind his daughter, he had clearly been briefed on the situation. He smiled at Elaina, inviting her to have a cup of tea while the young woman ‒

“Lucia,” he said, “after her grandmother.” 

‒ spoke to Vax’ildan. 

Rin was calming, reassuring Elaina that her child was okay and letting her know that this was not something Elaina had instigated. He told her that there were many others in the Tal’Dorei who were similar to her child in this way leading normal, happy lives. 

They sat on the small wooden porch of Rin’s house, right next door to the forge, watching as Lucia sat down next to the twins who were still enamoured with the dog. The twins seemed curious about the young woman wearing a tough leather apron and covered in soot, and Elaina could see them chattering excitedly to her and each other. 

After several cups of tea and some reassurances from Rin, Elaina watched Lucia stand up and make her way over to the porch. 

She nodded in greeting at Elaina as she joined them on the porch, hand resting on her father’s shoulder where he was sitting. Rin looked up at his daughter, smiling proudly as she rolled her eyes at him ‒ although with no real heat behind the gesture ‒ a small smile playing at the corner of her lips. 

“Is Vax’ildan…” Elaina trailed off, unsure of how to ask. 

“Your children are very articulate for their age,” Lucia commented, “They could explain how they feel very well to me.” 

Elaina looked up at the young woman. 

“They?”, she asked uncertainly, “You mean both of them…” 

Lucia nodded at her, “From what they told me, they’re both like me. Not in the exact same way, but they both said they feel uncomfortable with their gender sometimes.” 

Elaina looked over to her children who had moved on from stroking the dog to seeing who could climb the walls of the forge highest. Vex was clinging to the large, rough stones which made up the structure as Vax watched on from the ground. 

“Oh…”, she said faintly. Her thoughts were racing as she thought about how the twins behaved in the past. She knew that sometimes Vax’ildan and Vex’ahlia switched names on her, and would suddenly insist on being called by the other’s name but she assumed that they were trying to prank her, and would simply go along with it most of the time. Perhaps they hadn’t just been playing as she had assumed. 

Lucia interrupted her musing, “They both said that sometimes they feel like Vax and sometimes they feel like Vex. They said that Vax is a boy and Vex is a girl.” 

Elaina nodded absently, rather overwhelmed at her sudden realisations; her children were sometimes boys and sometimes girls. Elaina felt rather desperate; she knew her children would already have a tough time due to their mixed heritage and the family’s lower income, and she didn’t want another aspect of them to make them targets. 

“Are you sure?” she asked Lucia, already knowing the answer even as she spoke, “Aren’t they too young?” 

Lucia shook her head and she looked away from Elaina towards the twins, playing happily, as she answered. 

“There’s not really a thing as being too young to know yourself. If you ask them, they’ll just tell you how they feel,” she said bluntly. 

Elaina steeled herself, feeling a certainty settle in her chest; she wouldn’t let the world tell her children that they were wrong or inferior. The twins were going to be looked down on no matter what, and she would do everything in her power to protect them and to teach them to protect each other. 

Rin and Lucia waited patiently in silence for a few minutes as she gathered her thoughts. 

She turned to look at Rin, “What do I do now? How did‒how did you…” Elaina trailed off, glancing back at her children playing together. 

Rin laughed, a deep sound, and looked at Elaina reassuringly, smile lines filling his weathered face. 

“I can’t tell you what to do next, Elaina, they’re your kids not mine.” He clapped his hand over Lucia’s where it rested on his shoulder and smiled up at his daughter. “I can only tell you that when my Lucia told me, I believed her, and asked about what I didn’t understand,” he said gently. 

He looked over to the forge entrance and jerked his chin towards the twins. “They’re clever kids you’ve got there. I reckon you’re best asking them what they want you to do next.” 

Elaina nodded, lost in thought. She finished her cup of tea and stood, nodding at first Rin then Lucia. 

“Thank you, both. I really appreciate it,” Elaina said, before stepping off the porch. 

“If you have any more questions, you know where to find us,” said Rin, standing too and walking back to the forge with Elaina. 

As the twins walked home with their mother, she was quiet as she thought about everything she had learned that day. Elaina remained quiet as she made dinner for them all, and watched her children recounting the day to each other between mouthfuls. 

It was only as she was helping them change for bed that Elaina spoke up. 

“Thank you for being so well behaved today, my darlings. I wanted to apologise to you Vex’ahlia,” she reached towards both twins and pulled them into her arms. “I didn’t understand that you were a girl today, darling. I didn’t mean to upset you earlier,” Elaina addressed the twin on her left. The child in question wriggled in her hold and twisted to rest on Elaina’s chest. 

“‘S okay, Mamma. Lucia said you didn’t know ‘cause no one knows how you feel inside unless you tell ‘em,” said the small voice. 

Elaina nodded, hugging them both tighter. “Do you think that you could tell me how you feel inside”, she asked softly, “so I don’t get it wrong again?” Dark hair bobbed up and down in her vision as Vex’ahlia nodded assent and Elaina looked to the twin on her right. 

“And you too, my darling?” Another nod of agreement from...also Vex’ahlia? 

“Do you want to be called something different, darling, so you’re not both Vex’ahlia?” Elaina asked. 

The twins exchanged a look and both shook their heads, dark hair flying. 

“Nah uh,” Vex’ahlia said, “we’re the same.” 

“Yeah, we’re both Vex, an’ Vex is the same,” said the other twin. 

Elaina mentally shrugged, she supposed that there was no guidebook to this so who was she to tell her children what was okay or not. 

“Alright, my darlings,” Elaina released them from her embrace, ”Time for bed.” 

The twins changed into their sleep shirts and climbed into bed, snuggling under the blankets. Elaina pulled them up round her children’s chins, tucking them in before pressing kisses to each of their foreheads. 

“Goodnight Vex, I love you,” she said, and with a moment of hesitation added, “Goodnight Vex, I love you.” 

“G’night Mamma.” 

“Night Mamma,” came the sleepy responses. 

Elaina gently shut the door to their bedroom and headed towards her own, worn out from a busy day with many things to think on before she could sleep herself. 

The next morning when she woke her children, she remembered Rin’s advice from yesterday to ask if she was unsure. 

“Good morning, darling, would you like to wear red or black today?” she held two tunics out towards the bed, “And are you Vax or Vex today?” 

Her sleepy child looked startled for a few seconds, ears perking up, before grinning at her. 

“Red, please. And I’m Vex today,” she said happily. 

“Okay, my darling,” Elaina responded, handing over the tunic. She helped Vex’ahlia to change and turned to the other twin who was sitting cross legged on top of the blankets. 

“Good morning, are you Vax or Vex today, darling?” she asked. 

Her child looked at her seriously for a long moment with dark eyes before responding, “I’m Vax today, Mamma.”

“Okay Vax,” Elaina smiled at him, “Don’t forget we’re picking apples today, you two. Let’s be quick this morning, shall we?” 

Excited by the prospect of apple picking, the twins quickly dressed and made their bed before pattering down the stairs. Behind them, Elaina smiled to herself. Her children were still her children, and she would do anything to make them happy. 

_________________________________________  
  
  


For several years the twins grew and learned and played together, knowing that their mother understood and loved them as they were. There were days where they were both Vax or both Vex, and days where one of them was Vax and one was Vex, but each morning their mother asked. 

They never needed to ask each other; they could just tell. They both knew what Vex felt like and what Vex looked like, and the same with Vax. As easily as they could tell if themselves were Vex or Vax, they could tell of the other. 

Their mother loved them still, and told them to ignore the mean things some of the other children in town said about them. The twins knew they were different ‒ not only because sometimes they were Vax and sometimes they were Vex ‒ but also because their ears were long, and they were thin and delicate, and their dark eyes could see much better in the dark than other people. 

Elaina answered her children’s questions as well as she could, knowing that they were curious about their heritage. Her twins asked if their gender came from elves too, like the other parts of them the local children didn’t understand, and Elaina smiled sadly. Perhaps, she responded noncommittally, knowing that this part of them didn’t come from their heritage but simply from themselves. 

The twins learnt how to read and count from their mother, and how to darn holes from Mrs. Mandin, and how to twist hot metal into useful shapes from Lucia and Rin, and how to look after animals and pick fruit and bake bread and run errands from lots of different people in town. They were comfortable and happy in their life, but sadly it did not last. 

When the twins were 10, a snooty, well-dressed elf came to their cottage and took them away. They didn’t want to go, and their mother didn’t want them to leave, but the elf was firm and mean. 

Their mother pleaded for them to stay, but the elf said that he had every right as their father to take them. The twins exchanged glances and studied him carefully, looking for parts of themselves in him. 

The elf ‒ their father ‒ said they needed education and a proper upbringing, and didn’t listen to them as they said they got that here, that their mother gave them that. As well as not listening to them, he seemed not to look at them either, addressing above their heads or slightly to the side of where they were. 

This strange elf didn’t seem much like what the twins imagined when they spoke softly during the night, telling each other imagined stories of their father. His eyes were dark like theirs but were lacking warmth, his ears were much longer than theirs were, and his dark hair was pulled back tightly rather than in loose waves like theirs was.

The twins packed up their shared clothing, and the small metal figures Lucia and Rin had gifted to them on their birthday, and held each other’s hands as the elf spoke to their mother. 

Elaina fastened their winter cloaks around their shoulders, pulling the hoods around their necks, hiding her shaking hands as she told them to behave and look after each other while they were away. She hugged them tightly to her, kissing their crowns and closing her eyes as she breathed in the moment. Eventually the elf cleared his throat and Elaina pulled back, brushing hair out of their eyes and smiling as tears welled in her eyes. 

“I love you my darlings,” she said, managing to stop her voice from wavering. 

She watched as the twins were bundled into a carriage, clutching each other’s hands tightly, looking bewildered. Their faces peered through the window, dark eyes solemn as they were driven away. 

Elaina smiled and waved until she could no longer see the carriage, before her façade broke and she wept at the loss of her children. She did not know she would never see them again, but sobbed as though she was aware of it. 

Her children did not cry, they sat in the corner of the carriage quietly and warily watching the strange elf sitting opposite them. He did not look at them, instead looking out of the window into the growing dusk. 

The twins leaned into each other, taking comfort from the familiarity of each other amidst this turmoil, following their father’s gaze into the dark landscapes passing by as they were driven away from everything they’d ever known. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed the first chapter, let me know how you liked this one! Next chapter covers the twins time in Syngorn with their father...


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next installation in the story, covering the twins' time in Syngorn.
> 
> This chapter is a little more heavy than the previous one, there are specific warnings in the end notes. 
> 
> Please take note of the warnings & skip this chapter if you don't wanna read that kind of thing, no harm no foul, take care of yourself!

The twins don’t like Syngorn. Or it might be more accurate to say that they don’t like _Syldor_. Syngorn is big and clean and full of elves who stare at them and make whispered comments about “half-breeds”. Syldor is aloof and dismissive and makes loud comments about “propriety”. These comments are more frequent and direct when they talk about home, or speak like their mother, or when they act ‘like humans’. His apparent disdain for his children only grows when he finds out about their gender. 

The first time they’re both Vax is the day after they arrive. Neither of them has slept well; Syldor has put them in separate rooms for the first time in their lives. The rooms are lofty and cold and corridors away from each other, a far cry from their cosy room at home. Their beds are vast ‒ they’re made for adults ‒ and too empty without each other. There’s no comforting weight at their backs, no soft sounds of breathing and shifting, no warmth pooling between them. 

Vax’ildan wakes up with a sharp breath, unsure of his whereabouts, hand flying out to find his twin but closing over empty blankets. He looks around the room, eyes falling on the tall dresser next to the large desk, then settling on the imposing door with its golden handle. He realises he’s still fully dressed, his cloak on the floor next to the bed along with his boots. 

Vax’s brows furrow as he remembers Syldor, and being taken away from their mother, and then being taken away from each other once they arrived in this new house. 

He slips out of the bed and tugs his boots on, padding softly across the floor to the door, and reaches out to the handle, grabbing it gently. He tries it and thankfully it opens, he wasn’t locked in. Vax pulls the door slowly, opening it just enough to peer into the hallway to check it’s empty, and then enough to slip out when the coast is clear. 

He looks both ways down the hallway; it has high ceilings and a carpet runs down its length. To his left is one more door before the hallway ends with a huge arched window, reaching nearly from the floor to the ceiling. To his right the corridor goes for three more doors, then appears to turn and continue to the left. 

Vax takes a slow breath and squares his shoulders before setting off to the right, pressed to the wall and stepping quietly. He makes it to the end of the corridor where it turns left and peeks around the corner quickly. 

He spots a small figure duck behind a column just as his head peers around the wall. Vax steps round the corner and walks swiftly towards the column. 

“Hey,” he calls quietly, “it’s just me.” 

His twin pops out from behind the column and darts across the hall to hug him. He squeezes back, enjoying the comfort of his twin in this unfamiliar place. 

He pulls back and looks over his twin, checking for anything out of place. His twin looks tired, and they’re both Vax today but he doesn’t find anything wrong and he links their hands firmly together. 

“Where’s your room,” asks his brother, “I couldn’t find you.” 

Vax turns and tugs his twin along by the hand, back around the corner and down the hallway to the room where he woke up. 

“Here,” he declares, shutting the door as his brother looks briefly around the room before turning back to him. 

“Same as mine,” his brother mutters. 

They stand in the middle of the large room, holding each other’s hands for comfort until one of them moves to sit on the bed. They both press shoulder-to-shoulder, sitting quietly for a moment until a knock at the door interrupts their pondering. 

Vax startles at the sudden noise and his brother lets go of his hand, squeezing his shoulder briefly before walking to the door. He opens it cautiously, looking up at the face of a rather frantic elf wearing a smart dress who visibly relaxes at the sight of Vax sitting on the bed as well as his brother at the door. 

“Ah, there you are. I couldn’t find you in your room,” the elf appears to be addressing both of them. The twins simply watch her quietly, motionless until she speaks again, rather unsettled at their silence. 

“I‒I’m supposed to escort you to the dining room for breakfast,” she said, gesturing down the hall. 

Vax turns away from her at the door to look at his brother sitting on the bed. He nods, before slipping down and walking to stand next to his twin. They both look expectantly at the elf who still seems perturbed but begins to walk down the corridor at a slow pace. 

The twins join hands again, and follow her down the corridor. They watch with sharp eyes, noticing the twists and turns of the house, the windows, where the doors lead. The house is large, much bigger than their cottage, and it takes them what feels like an age to get to the dining room. 

The elf stops in front of a set of double doors and glances behind her to check that they’re still following. They eye her with apprehension as she opens the doors and ushers them through. Vax squeezes his brother’s hand once and they walk into the room. 

The room is big, like all of the house; there is a fireplace along one wall, unlit, with tall windows either side. There’s a long cabinet along the wall opposite the fireplace and another door in the corner of the room. Most of the room is taken up by a huge table, easily 15 feet long, with ornate chairs seated around it. 

At the table is Syldor and an elf woman they haven’t seen before. She looks up curiously as the twins enter the room and motions towards Syldor to catch his attention. 

Their father appears to be occupied by a newspaper, which he folds and places to the side of his plate as the twins step forwards. 

“Good morning Vax’ildan and Vex’ahlia, I trust you slept well,” he says smoothly. Vax feels himself flinch slightly and sees his brother’s ears twitch at Syldor’s words. Without waiting for a response Syldor continues, “Please take a seat.” 

He gestures at two chairs opposite himself, and the twins hesitantly walk forwards and sit, still holding hands. Syldor holds his hand to his right, taking the hand of the elf next to him who smiles reservedly at the twins. 

“This is my wife, Devana,” Syldor informs them. 

The twins look at the woman curiously; she looks dignified and has light hair twisted on top of her head in an intricate design like the merchant’s wives wore back home. She doesn’t look anything like their mother, all pale skin and long ears and delicate jewelry but she doesn’t seem to mind their inquisitive staring. 

Unlike the woman who showed them to the dining room, Syldor seems unperturbed by the twins’ lack of response and continues. 

“Devana, these are my children, Vax’ildan and Vex’ahlia,” Syldor says. 

Again, Vax feels his brother’s hand twitch and knows he has a slight frown on his face. 

“Which of you is Vax’ildan?” Syldor asks. 

Both of the twins speak for the first time. “Me,” they answer in unison. Syldor eyes them, frown forming on his face. 

“Which of you is Vex’ahlia?” he asks. The twins remain silent. “One of you is Vex’ahlia, which one?” Syldor asks, tone firm. Vax looks at his twin, who looks back at him and tilts his head slightly before turning back to their father. 

“Neither of us is Vex’ahlia today,” says his brother, voice quiet but clear. 

Syldor’s face hardens further, mouth twisting in displeasure. His wife ‒ Devana he had said ‒ looks confused, gaze flicking back and forth between Syldor and the twins. 

“Do not be ridiculous, child,” he bites, “One of you is Vex’ahlia and one of you is Vax’ildan.”

“Not always,” says Vax’s brother, not argumentative, just explaining, “Sometimes we’re Vax and sometimes we’re Vex.” 

Syldor looks mostly confused, but Vax can see Syldor’s anger begin to rise under the surface and wants to interrupt it before something bad happens. 

“We‒uh, sometimes we feel like Vex or Vax,” he offers, trying to explain, “Sometimes at the same time but sometimes we don’t. Mamma said it was okay, and we‒we thought maybe it was an elf thing‒” 

Syldor interrupts him before he can finish. “This is not an elf thing,” he sneers, “This is simply yet another shortcoming in your upbringing so far.” 

Vax shifts nervously in his chair, and feels his brother’s grip on his hand tighten. Syldor looks across the table at the twins and steeples his fingers in front of himself. 

“You are here because your upbringing so far has been unbefitting to Vessars. Your mother was unable to provide adequate education and apparently, adequate discipline,” he says disdainfully. 

Vax feels his brother sit up straighter and begin to open his mouth, but he stills when Vax tugs his hand urgently to keep him quiet. Syldor continues talking, ignoring their reactions. 

“While you are here, you will receive a suitable education, and learn how to behave properly. There will be no more childish indulgence of your games,” he declares. 

Syldor lays his palms flat on the table either side of his plate. 

“One of you is Vax’ildan, a boy, and one of you is Vex’ahlia, a girl. Who is who?” he orders. He fixes the twins with an intense stare, and after an uncomfortable moment Vax looks away. There is a long pause of silence. 

“I’m Vex’ahlia,” says his brother, suddenly, and Vax whips around to look at him in confusion. 

His brother doesn’t look at him, instead meeting Syldor’s eyes, shoulder back and chin high. Vax doesn’t understand what his twin is doing, but trusts him enough not to interrupt. Syldor eyes him for a moment and then simply nods, apparently satisfied with the answer. 

“You will begin your education tomorrow morning. You will be tutored in mathematics, grammar, Elvish, Abyssal, fencing, and of course proper behaviour which is sorely needed” Syldor informs them sternly, changing topic with startling abruptness. The twins are too overwhelmed by everything that has happened to respond, and Syldor appears to take their silence for assent. 

He flicks his hand towards an elf standing by the door in the corner of the room. The elf disappears through the door for a moment, and returns with two plates of food which he places in front of the twins before resuming his sentry at the side of the room. 

Syldor picks up his newspaper again and resumes reading it, apparently ending the conversation. 

Vax looks at his twin, still sitting bolt upright looking across the table at their father with a blank expression. 

After watching Syldor read to be sure he isn’t interested in them anymore, Vax’s twin looks at the food in front of him then to Vax. He gives him a slight smile and begins to pick at the bread on his plate, eyeing the adults in the room. 

When it appears they’re not being watched, Vax joins his brother in eating the platter in front of him. Along with bread, there is a selection of fruit some of which Vax recognises but some of which are new. 

He eats the apple haltingly and tries what looks like a green orange that has large purple seeds when he opens it; it tastes overly sweet, and Vax’s nose wrinkles. He reaches over to place it on his brother’s plate ‒ his twin has always had more of a sweet tooth ‒ but is stopped by a sudden noise, his ears flying straight upright, alert. 

“It is impolite to dispense your food to others,” comes Syldor’s steely voice from across the table. 

Vax freezes ‒ he hadn’t realised Syldor was still observing them ‒ and he withdraws his hand to his own plate. He eats the rest of his food quickly, keeping his head down and sees his twin doing the same out of the corner of his eye. 

Five minutes after both of them have finished eating, they have begun to fidget in their chairs, unsure of what to do next. After another few minutes, Syldor lays his newspaper aside again and nods at the elf in the corner again who takes their plates back through the door in the corner. 

“Saya,” calls Syldor, raising his voice slightly. 

Behind them, the twins hear the door open and someone walk into the room. 

“Yes, sir?” says the elf who brought them to the dining room before. 

“Please show Vex’ahlia and Vax’ildan back to their rooms,” says Syldor, flicking his fingers at the twins in a dismissive gesture which might only be described as a wave by a very generous person. 

“Of course, sir”, says the woman behind them before addressing the twins directly, ”If you would follow me, please?” 

Vax slides out of his chair and his brother does the same before they move to stand next to Saya who opens the door and ushers them through. Looking briefly over his shoulder, Vax catches a glimpse of their father, once again immersed in the newspaper, ignoring his children as they are steered away. 

Once again they are led through a series of long, twisting corridors and up stairs until Saya stops outside a white door. She opens it, displaying a room with high ceilings and a large bed against the wall. Vax sees his twin’s cloak over a chair in the corner and realises this must be his brother’s room. 

Vax grabs his twin’s hand and pulls them both into the room before turning and pushing the door closed on a startled Saya. 

“This isn’t your‒” Saya is cut off by Vax’s voice. 

“We’ll just both wait here so you know where we are. Thanks for showing us back,” Vax says quickly, flashing her his politest smile. 

The door clicks shut, muffling any further protests from the elf, and Vax huffs out a breath. He spins around to his twin and fixes him with a frown. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, watching his brother’s face intently. His twin nods at him. 

“I’m okay.” 

“Then what was that about?” he asks, “You told him you’re Vex but you’re not. You lied.” 

His brother nods again and reaches towards him, grasping his forearms. “I did,” he agrees, tugging them both to sit on the floor against the bed. 

Vax’s brow wrinkles even further and he knows he looks baffled. His twin sees his expression and sighs softly before explaining. 

“D’you remember at‒at home how some of the other kids didn’t like that we change?” he asks, swallowing against the tightness in his throat. 

Vax nods at his twin; some of the other children in town hadn’t understood how they could feel like Vax one day and Vex the next day. They had bullied the twins, but they learnt quickly to stick to words rather than fists after they realised the twins were scrappier than they looked and fiercely loyal to each other and no-one else. 

“Yeah,” he says, an unpleasant sensation in the pit of his stomach at the recollection. 

“I think that...Syldor is like that, too,” his twin says quietly. 

Vax stills. He hadn’t thought about their parent not understanding; they had always had their mother who was supportive and accepting. And now they didn’t. His eyes begin to well up with tears at the loss of their mother, and he looks at his twin who looks miserable as well. 

“C’mon,” he says, pulling them both to their feet and towards the head of the bed. 

He climbs into the bed and tugs his twin up too, settling them on the pillows. Vax grabs the blanket and pulls it over their heads, shutting out everything but each other. 

His twin shuffles closer until they’re curled up under the blankets; bent knees pressing together, hands clasped between them tightly. They’re both teary-eyed and clinging to each other like a lifeline in the sea of unfamiliar surroundings. Vax breathes out shakily. 

“What‒what do we do about Syldor? If he doesn’t want us to be…” he asks, trailing off. 

“I don’t know, Vax. It isn’t‒we don’t control it,” his twin says. 

Vax growls frustratedly. “He just wants two kids: Vex’ahlia and Vax’ildan. He doesn’t want us,” he says, angrily. He closes his eyes, trying to push down the tears, breathing deeply. 

There is quiet long enough for Vax to calm his breathing again and stop sniffling. 

“Yeah,” says his brother finally, “you’re right.” 

Vax recognises that tone ‒ quietly resigned. He opens his eyes and peers at his twin in the low light, identical face inches away from his own. 

“What’d you mean?” Vax asks softly, matching his twin’s volume. 

“I think,” his brother murmurs, “that we should be Vex’ahlia and Vax’ildan around Syldor.”

Vax looks in shock at his twin, startled by the statement. 

“It’s what he wants,” his twin continues, “and we don’t wanna make trouble so maybe we should just pretend.” 

Vax closes his eyes again, feeling the comforting press of his twin’s body against his own. 

“I don’t wanna pretend,” he says. 

He feels his brother shift, clenching their joined hands subconsciously. They’ve never pretended to be anything other than themselves in their lives; why would they? Their mother said it was admirable, even as she patched up their scrapes and bruises from those who disagreed. 

“Me neither,” says his twin, quietly. 

They just breathe for a few moments, wrapped in a cocoon of their own making sheltering them from the world. 

“Okay,” Vax says, eventually. He mutters it softly like a confession. Like a concession. He feels his brother breathe out slowly. 

“Yeah?” comes the response. 

“Yeah,” Vax agrees. 

“Just ‘til we go home,” says his twin with certainty, “Just to make things easier.” 

Vax nods, shuffling forwards minutely until their foreheads are resting together and they both sink into the warmth and familiarity of each other. They stay like that ‒ curled in towards each other, mirrored pictures, seeking comfort ‒ until there is a knock at the door to fetch them for lunch. 

* * *

They keep the pact they made; for their father one of them is Vax’ildan and one of them is Vex’ahlia. The tutors their father has hired for them ‒ all of them haughty elves who look upon the twins’ clothes and mannerisms with disdain ‒ are made aware of this, as are the servants; _their father has servants_. 

The twins are used to being indistinguishable to people, which allows them to take turns being Vax’ildan and Vex’ahlia, providing a little relief. They get into the habit of both of them responding when one of their names is said, so they don’t slip up, and referring to each other as “brother” and “sister” deliberately so they aren’t caught out. They still share bedrooms and wardrobes between them; they’ve never had their own, why would they start now. 

There is a shouting match the first time Vex is caught sneaking into her twin’s room at night. Or rather, the twins shout and protest as Syldor ignores them and informs the servants that Vax’ildan and Vex’ahlia are to be locked in their bedrooms at night as they cannot be trusted. The twins struggle but Syldor speaks in a quiet, dangerous tone which chills them to the bone and they fall silent; watching as each other is pulled down the corridor away from each other. 

Vex doesn’t sleep that night, and judging by the dark circles under her brother’s eyes the next morning neither does he. The next night, Vex sits in her room after hearing the click of the lock on the door and waits until there is no sound but the wind outside before climbing out of bed. She takes a bobby pin from on the dresser and sets her jaw determinedly as she works on the lock. 

It takes her nearly an hour, but she is determined and filled with righteous anger ‒ _who is Syldor to keep her from her twin_. Eventually, the lock clicks and Vex slips out the door with a triumphant smile. She pads down the hallway to her twin’s room and grips the bobby pin tightly as she gets to work on the bedroom door. 

It takes less time now she has an idea of what to do, and when she inches through the door she is greeted with relief on the tear-streaked face of her twin. They curl together under the blankets and Vex creeps back to her own room in the dim blue light of the early morning. 

The next night Vex does the same thing again, taking an extra bobby pin and walking her twin through the process of picking the lock. They both get plenty of practice picking locks and moving stealthily by the time their father decides they can be trusted and should no longer be locked in at night. The twins afford him the pretence of obedience, and likewise Syldor adopts a veneer of ignorance, choosing to save his effort for battles he has a chance of winning. 

One such battle is over clothing; the twins must, claims Syldor, dress like _proper_ heirs. Apparently, this involves tailors fussing over them with tape measures, and the twins standing perfectly still for hours while they are stabbed with pins. In the end, Vax’ildan’s wardrobe is full of shirts with stiff collars and embroidered patterns that itch horribly, and Vex’ahlia’s wardrobe consists of long, impractical skirts and delicate dresses not designed for movement. 

The twins endure the process with gritted teeth, and promptly destroy the most uncomfortable items ‒ “My apologies, Sir, I didn’t know the fabric was so flammable” and “Oh dear, I think the mud might have ruined it forever”. 

The remaining clothes they pool together ‒ sharing both storage space and fashion sense ‒ and push the boundaries of what might constitute an ‘appropriate’ outfit. Syldor appears not to notice when Vex’ahlia appears at an official event wearing a skirt paired with one of Vax’s formal shirts, or when Vax’ildan attends a banquet wearing what is clearly his twin’s blouse with his breeches. 

Sometimes one of them was Vax and one of them was Vex, and they don’t have to mask their discomfort or carefully control their responses. They still schooled their expressions but for other reasons ‒ their Elvish tutor scoffing at their accents, their history tutor berating their lack of knowledge of elven affairs, even their father’s stony visage betraying disappointment whenever he observed their lessons. 

In addition to their shared classes, the tutors taught Vax’ildan the basics of hand-to-hand combat and blade wielding, and taught Vex’ahlia needlepoint and calligraphy. They were well practiced in switching places, so both twins learnt all of these skills, although admittedly they were more interested in combat and blade skills than calligraphy. 

Although Vex’ahlia and Vax’ildan were both taught about comportment and correct etiquette, they were taught different versions of it so they can be “a proper lady and young gentleman”. The twins took notice of both styles of behaviour and practiced until they were both able to execute a graceful curtsy and solemn bow. They learnt the correct forms of address for their father’s colleagues from the embassy, and memorised formal introductions in both Elvish and Common ‒ not that there was use to these skills, other than to appease Syldor. 

There are also things they learnt that did not come from stuffy tutors and cold classrooms. The twins became good at hiding in plain sight amongst the crowds in Syngorn, and when their shorter ears and human accents made that difficult, they became good at hiding _not_ in plain sight. They learnt how to cling to the shadows and hold still, how to move silently and smoothly without stumbling. 

The twins practiced climbing until they could shimmy up rough stone walls with ease, until they could climb right out of their bedroom windows to the ground without falling (and back in again without being spotted). They learnt how to travel through Syngorn without once touching the ground, springing from wall to drainpipe to ledge, darting across the rooftops. 

They learnt how to persuade and influence people, using flowery language and all the charms at their disposal. The twins very quickly learnt how to lie straight-faced without blinking, backing each other’s story up with no hesitation ‒ “No sir, we were studying at the time, there is no way it could have been us in the market, perhaps they were mistaken”. They learnt to spin the same tale without discussing it beforehand, communicating through silent conversations using imperceptible facial expressions. 

The twins stayed in Syngorn for a long time. After a while, they stopped referring to going home in the presence of their father as it became more evident that he had no intention of letting them return. Instead, the twins learnt and grew, and tried to make the best of their situation. 

* * *

Several years into their stay in Syngorn, the twins looked much as they had upon their arrival, if a little taller. At this time Devana ‒ who had been present, but uninvolved with the twins to this point ‒ had tea with Vex’ahlia and explained, delicately, and with copious euphemisms, of the changes to her that would come soon. The entire conversation was mortifying for Vex, and not entirely needed; the twins weren’t as sheltered as their father believed, and were aware of the changes which typically occurred at their age. They were also horrified at the possibilities. 

The ideas of their bodies growing and shifting and changing in ways that they didn’t want ‒ ways that didn’t match their genders ‒ was distressing. The twins knew that their bodies were different, but at the moment their bodies still gave them freedom to be perceived as either Vex or Vax as they wanted. The idea of not being able to be perceived as themselves, and the loss of identity that would come with no longer being identical, troubled both of the twins and caused them many sleepless nights. 

And indeed over the next few years, came the changes they had been dreading. 

Thankfully neither of their bodies changed noticeably much, their faces stayed preternaturally identical; thin brows, high cheekbones, sharp jawlines. They wondered sometimes if they had channelled magic within themselves to ensure their similarity, but chalked it up to strong genes instead ‒ they couldn’t wield latent magic like that, it wasn’t possible, was it? 

One morning, as they greeted each other in the dining room in front of their father like they hadn’t slept in the same bed last night, they realised that one of them had grown a couple of inches taller than the other and it was like a punch in the gut. They were no longer identical. It was barely noticeable to anyone other than each other but to them it was obvious. 

One of the twins took to slouching, the minute difference in posture bringing them back into parallel. The twins were about average height for humans and elves both ‒ taller than some elves, and slight by human standards ‒ and grateful that their height wasn’t uncommon for either men or women. Other than scolding from their tutor for poor posture, no one seemed to notice that they were more easily distinguishable. 

Other changes were not so easily amended; one of their bodies swelled slightly with curves while the other stayed straight, further pushing them away from each other. There had been corsets in Vex’ahlia’s wardrobe for several years now, although they remained unused apart from when one of them had to wear a ball gown to an embassy event of their father’s. 

One night, they stayed awake, desperately adjusting corsets in an attempt to flatten one of their chests to no avail. After some eavesdropping and investigation, they found someone in Syngorn who knew a method of applying breast bindings that would flatten any noticeable bump, as well as a way to apply breast bindings to a flat chest which would produce a slightly noticeable bump. 

The twins practiced wrapping the cloth in the right way until they could do it quickly, until they could do it without looking, until it was second nature. And then they practiced on each other, learning the other method, changing how they wrapped the cloth until it did the exact opposite of what they wanted for themself. 

The first time Vex went out in public with the cloth on her chest, its gently crafted curves showing in her blouse, she revelled in the feeling of rightness as she caught sight of herself in a window. She saw long hair loose around her shoulders, her skirt flowing around her ankles, and a noticeable bulge in her blouse ‒ she certainly wasn’t the most buxom young woman, but she was no longer as flat-chested as she had been. 

Vax’s first experience wrapping breast bindings to flatten his chest was similarly relieving as he was able to wear a slim-fitting shirt and still feel confident in himself. He walked with his shoulders back proudly, a slight swagger to his step as he caught sight of his shirt lying against his flat chest out of the corner of his eye. 

The twins were able to use these techniques when they wanted to, particularly when they wore formal or tighter-fitting clothes, but most days didn’t feel the need to. They both preferred looser clothing anyway, and if it hanging from their slim frames had the benefit of obscuring their curves, or lack thereof, then that was just an added benefit. 

Both of their voices change too, getting deeper to different extents and mimicking the crisp accent of Syngorn as drilled into them by their tutors and their father. Both twins spoke softly, one naturally more husky than the other, but still similar enough that they couldn’t be differentiated. They adopted the same dry, sarcastic tone and learnt to carefully enunciate all the swear words they know ‒ primarily with the purpose of irritating their father. 

These are many things the twins learnt in their years in Syngorn, but not all of the things they learnt (how to bite their tongues, how to dodge a slap, how to cry silently, how to take a punch, how to steal food without being noticed, how to hate themselves, how to hate their father, how to plead and bargain and beg and‒). 

The most important thing the twins learnt in Syngorn was to rely on each other and each other alone.   
This is the lesson that weighed heavily in their minds as they slipped out of the house silently, shimmying down the walls with packs full of their possessions on their backs. When one of them had crept into the other’s room that night, they had locked eyes, both full of determination, and quietly packed what few belongings they were attached to. 

Vex had a black eye and a split lip which pulled painfully as she whispered for her twin to wait. A few moments later, two guards rounded the corner and walked past the section of wall where the twins were pressed low to the ground in the shadows. She waited for another beat, then tugged her twin by the hand, leading the way through the alleys and backstreets of Syngorn. 

Her brother was silent and obedient following in her footsteps; he hadn’t spoken a word to anyone, including her, for a day and a half. Vex didn’t know what happened in her father’s office to make her twin act like this, nor why her twin was called into his office in the first place, and although she couldn’t make out what Syldor said (she was hastily shooed away from the door by nervous looking servants) she could hear his tone ‒ vicious and disdainful. 

Vex stole into her twin’s room to wait, and she was coiled tight with worry when, over an hour later, the door finally opened to show her twin on the other side. She looked over her twin, assessing for (injuries) anything wrong but was met by a carefully blank expression and stiff posture. 

Vex hesitantly asked about what had happened but received nothing other than vacant stares from hollow eyes in response. She tried valiantly to seem positive, but as she lay wrapped around her tense twin that night, she knew that she couldn’t let whatever had occurred happen again. 

That had been last night, and earlier this night Vex had packed a bag and slipped into her brother’s room, both of their travelling cloaks in hand. 

Now, Vex led them through the streets they came to know, deftly stepping over puddles and around pools of light emanating from various torches. 

They made it to the outer walls of Syngorn without being spotted and hid behind a pile of crates near the main gates, watching the armed guards on duty standing either side of the lowered portcullis. 

Vex frowned, she hadn’t planned this far ahead, until she felt a tug on her arm and looked over at her brother who nodded his head towards the tower built into the walls a little ways off to their right. There was a bit of loose stonework where the wall connected to the walkway along the top of the wall and a ladder leaned up against it where there had clearly been maintenance work happening during the day. 

They climbed the ladder quickly up onto the battlements, pressing themselves to the shadows at the base of the watchtower. The outer wall of Syngorn ended about 10 feet away with an abrupt drop into the forests surrounding the city ‒ the twins hadn’t been so close to freedom in years. 

They froze as a guard walked past them, holding their breaths to remain completely still, their only movement the faint tremors from the crushing grip they had on each other's hand. The guard continued on their patrol, not noticing the small figures in the shadows, and the twins let out a silent breath simultaneously. 

Vex looked around, attention flicking from the guards at the gate, the door to the watchtower, the patrolling figures on the battlements, the tempting treetops below and back again. She felt her brother shift his stance imperceptibly at her back, onto the balls of his feet, ready to move. Vex gave their surroundings one last intense scan, and squeezed her brother’s hand. 

Swift as the wind, the twins darted across the battlements towards the steep drop. Vex accepted a boost from her brother over the edge, and found footholds on the rocky outer wall before pulling her twin over the edge too. 

Vax almost seemed to float in the air for a moment before grabbing onto the stone with his fingertips and slamming into the wall next to his sister. They paused for a minute ‒ hearts racing, suspended 50 feet off the ground with rough stone scraping at their hands ‒ waiting to hear shouts from the guards, to hear alarm bells chime, to be caught and reprimanded and dragged back. 

The wind whistled past their ears. A moment passed. And then another. 

Vex looked at her brother, a smile forming subconsciously, incredulous. Had they really done it? 

Her brother met her eyes, face still serious and jerked his head towards the ground below as he started climbing downwards. Vex knew he was right, the longer they stayed here the more likely they were to be spotted, and began to follow him, making her own way down the sheer wall. 

They scrambled down the wall as quickly as they could, practised from climbing in and out of their windows back at their father’s house. This was a much longer climb, however, and by the time they reached the ground, their fingers were cramping and shaking from exertion. Vex’s legs felt like jelly as she watched her brother’s legs buckle for a second as he stepped away from the wall. 

They might have been out of Syngorn, but they were far from being out of trouble, so Vex hoisted her bag firmly on her shoulder, grabbed her twin’s hand and started running towards the treeline. They ran into the forest, through the trees, over twisted roots and under branches, past streams, startling birds out from the undergrowth as they went. 

They ran and ran, ignoring the burning in their lungs, pulling each other up when they stumbled and kept moving, driven equally by desperation and hope. Their hearts were pounding and their jagged breaths were the only sounds they could hear among the dense trees. 

At some point, they could no longer see Syngorn in the distance, but still they did not stop running. They ran until they could barely keep their feet moving, slowed and staggering amidst the trees. 

Eventually, Vex tripped over a root and fell, landing on a carpet of pine needles. Her brother was pulled down next to her by their joined hands and they ended up sprawled in a pile of lanky adolescent limbs, wind briefly knocked out of their lungs. 

Vex didn’t have the strength to get up again, the adrenaline of their escape having long since worn off. She looked over to her twins from where he was lying half on top of her and saw that he looked as exhausted as she felt, eyes already drooping. 

“C’n rest here f’r a bit,” Vex mumbled, shuffling until they rested against a large tree trunk, comfortingly solid at their backs. Vax gave a small grunt of agreement and wrapped his cloak over both of them as he burrowed further into his sister’s side. Vex wrapped an arm around him and winced at the sharp poke of his bony elbows in her ribs but pulled him closer regardless. 

Vex watched the moon through the trees until she couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer and fell asleep with the reassuring feeling of her twin’s head on her shoulder. In the morning they would have to worry about not getting caught and getting food and finding a place to live and any other number of things, but for now they were safe and free and _together_ , which was enough. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes discrimination, intentional misgendering, transphobia, heavily implied/referenced child abuse (neglect, emotional & physical) 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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